Never asked
by ptarn
Summary: Set before Adam returns to work. How does he cope with the fact that his body is no longer his own, and that he had no choice in what was done to him?


It was the third time today that his infolink alerted him to an urgent, incoming call from his employer. The sensation wasn't exactly unpleasant, but it was pretty annoying, like someone was exerting pressure on a part of his brain he'd never before realized he had. To top it off Adam had actively avoided any kind of communication with any employee of Sarif Industries and his boss was at the top of the list of people he did not want to talk to. However, considering it'd been almost three weeks since he'd been discharged from the clinic he also realized he couldn't really postpone talking to the man who'd effectively saved his life for much longer. A single thought was all it took for the call to be accepted.

"How are you doing, Adam?"

The sound quality was astonishing; it was as if Sarif was standing right next to him. Adam could hear every inflection in the older man's voice, could almost imagine the accompanying expression. With his words sounding somewhat strained and the sort of desperate edge that underlied them Adam was certain Sarif was trying a bit too hard to sound cheerful.

"As good as can be expected, boss."

His own voice sounded rich in comparison to that of his memories. Deep, rough, with a bit of gravel thrown in for good measure. The kind of voice that could easily intimidate others if needed, but Adam knew it was also quite capable of smoothing hairs, appeasing his conversational partners, even charming them. Not because he had faith in his capabilities, but because one of his augs, called CASIE, had activated the moment his boss had started to talk. The preliminary report on both his voice and that of Sarif was incomplete, because he didn't have access to other physiological responses, but it was accurate enough to be filed away and used for future encounters.

"You don't sound as enthusiastic as I'd hoped."

Still cheerful, but with a slight addition of disappointment. His mind, aided by the CASIE aug, promptly provided him with possible responses, each with an accompanying prediction. A barely contained anger, his constant companion ever since he'd regained consciousness, rose within him. It made him brush aside the more diplomatic options and go straight for the throat.

"That's what you get for rebuilding a man without his consent."

His words were harsh, suffused with his anger, every single one spat out with the single purpose of lashing out at the man who was responsible for his current state.

"What else would you have had me to then? Leave you to die? You were shot in the _head_ , for god's sake, and your arms were beyond repair! Your legs-"

"-were perfectly fine the last time I was conscious!"

Adam's rage wouldn't let itself be contained, not with such an easy target in its sight.

"You _ordered_ them to do this to me, boss! The contract never said you could take me apart like I was some kind of rag doll! My legs-"

"-would've never fully recovered. Damn it, Adam! You would've been a cripple, like Darrow! You wouldn't be of any use to me, to the company, to M-"

"Don't you dare. Don't you DARE bring her into this, Sarif! You did what you did for whatever reasons you had, but don't you dare say you did it for _her_!"

In the silence that fell Adam's augmented mind supplied him with information about his elevated blood pressure, his heart rate, the amount of adrenalin in his veins, and the fact that he was about to crush one of his glasses yet again. He eased the pressure on the glass as he fought to retain control, to cope with the threat of information overload. It was one of the reasons he'd avoided any contact. He hadn't even ventured outside of his apartment ever since his discharge out of fear for being overwhelmed by all that data that would conveyed to him through his enhanced senses.

They'd warned him about that. His appointed doctor, Allard Warren, had informed him quite extensively about all the possible problems associated with receiving augments, especially in his case, with 'his case' meaning that he was an unwitting and unwilling receiver of said augments. Warren had cautioned him in particular about the psychological ramifications of suddenly being faced with the hard fact of being an augmented human. He'd strongly advised Adam to see a psychiatrist as part of the 'complete coverage package' that was provided by Sarif Industries, but Adam had turned it down. Not just because he didn't want to spill his guts to some stranger, but the idea of someone having access to his higher brain functions without him having any kind of say in it, well, frankly it scared the living daylights out of him.

"That seems fair. Still, I'd have expected you to be grateful at least. You are alive. You don't suffer any adverse effects from your injuries or from the augments. When all's said and done you'll be able to go after the bastards who broke into the building and killed all those people. Including, well, you know."

His boss sounded less cheerful, but his words were more honest this time. Still, Adam detected a hint of deception, something that merited a bit of investigation if he'd return to work. If. Or when?

"Yeah. I know."

Megan. It all came back to Megan. Every time his world was shaken up, with the most recent occurrence being by far the most painful and violent, Megan was somehow involved. She'd stolen his heart, she'd broken it, but even now he couldn't stop thinking about her. Maybe it was because he had no one else. His parents were gone. He had no true friends, no other family. She'd been the first who'd given him a feeling of belonging somewhere, with someone. Although, he had to admit, Malik, well, Malik probably came close to being a friend.

"… Adam?"

Sarif sounded hesitant. His boss was unsure about how to proceed. Adam looked at the fine cracks in the glass that was all but empty. With his enhanced body getting drunk was a lot harder than it'd used to be. His body, it wasn't his own. He wondered if it would ever feel like his own again. A heavy sigh fell from his lips.

"Still here."

"Is there something I can do for you? Maybe send someone over to-"

"No. You've done enough."

In the silence that fell Adam could almost taste Sarif's guilt through the infolink. Both his words and the hidden viciousness behind them had really hit home. It should've made him feel better, but knowing that he'd hurt Sarif, that he'd made his boss feel how much he despised him for making this decision for him, didn't bring him the peace of mind he'd hoped for. Below the surface his anger still simmered. His heart rate slowed, along with his breathing. This time he opted for the more diplomatic approach.

"Boss, you saved my life. But what you did… I never asked for, for _this_. You took away my choice. And that's not something I can forget."

"I understand. However, you should also understand that you did sign the contract, Adam. I hope that one day you'll thank m-"

The glass in his hand shattered the same moment Adam cut the connection. _Thank_ him? No way in hell he'd ever do that. He looked at the splinters that hadn't even scratched the surface of his new hands. The remnants of his whiskey slowly dripped onto the floor. Adam registered the presence of each drop of liquid, the amazingly accurate sensors in his artificial skin providing him with useless data, like temperature, viscosity, right down to the size of said drop and how long it would take to dissipate in the current atmosphere. So much, it was so much…

He got out of his chair while he ignored a fourth call after identifying the person as Pritchard, the company's head of the tech department. Why the arrogant prick thought Adam would answer him of all people was beyond him. The two of them had never gotten along well, and he expected it to only get worse now that he was essentially dependent on him for – and he mentally scoffed at the idea – 'repairs' and 'upgrades'.

He wasn't human any longer. No sense in denying that. Sure, parts of him could still be classified as such, but overall he felt more like an advanced animatronic than a human being. Shards of glass fell to the floor as he walked into his bathroom. He opened the faucet and washed the whiskey away. The water was cold, would've felt uncomfortably so if he'd still had his own hands. His own hands. How strange to think about his body as not being his own any longer.

Adam gritted his teeth and looked in the mirror. His face was the same. His hair. His physique. But the moment he looked at his neck, at his shoulders, even his eyebrows he knew he couldn't lie to himself. He was one of the augmented now, more robot than human. This truth, a truth he'd been trying to deny ever since he'd first seen himself in the mirror, was what made him cry out in horror, in rage, and smash not just the mirror but the tiles behind it with all the force his enhanced muscles could muster.

Because the man in the mirror wasn't Adam Jensen. It was a stranger, with eyes that weren't brown, but yellow-green, who stared back at him. A stranger with arms and legs that weren't his own, with eyes that weren't his own, and with a brand on his forehead that told the world that his body was modified to use the Sarif Industries deadly Typhoon countermeasure. He touched the hexagonal sign with the fingers of his left hand. Tears formed in his eyes. They burned on his cheeks on their downward trajectory until he raised his skin temperature to evaporate them.  
It only took a thought to have his shades snap into place. Icons appeared in his vision, one showing him the current state of his body (undamaged, energy at maximum), another relaying to him if there were people nearby and if they were friendly, and a third flashing the message that he had no weapons equipped. He left the bathroom, opened his closet and pulled out the modified body armor that would protect his all-too-human torso from possible attacks. It fit like a second skin. Next he put on his coat before he accessed his hidden compartment. Two 10mm pistols disappeared into his concealed holsters.

Finally he stood in front of his apartment door. He took a deep breath, readied himself for what he was about to do. Adam contemplated what had happened to him, what was still happening to him, and decided that enough was enough. It was true, he never asked to become more than human, to be at the forefront of the war that was brewing, that would inevitably come. But he was a part of it now, no matter his previous stance on things. And he couldn't stand idly by while the world revolved and got plunged into chaos by unseen forces that tugged at the strings of those who thought they were the ones in power. He'd only seen a glimpse of that the day Megan got killed.

He straightened his back. It was time. Time to face the world, to become a part of it once more. He'd deal with the information overload, with the nightmares, on his own terms. A silent command unlocked the door. It slid open to reveal an empty hallway.

"I never asked for this," he said as he took one step, then two.

Behind him the door locked itself. A soft, female voice told him that his apartment was secured. Adam looked at the other doors. His right hand dug around in his pocket until it found a cigarette and a lighter. He brought the cigarette to his lips, lit it and slowly began to make his way to the elevator.

"But that doesn't mean I can't learn to live with this."

The elevator doors opened. When his hand touched the button a hint of a smile appeared on his face.

"I might even grow to like it."


End file.
